


The Healers

by LuxLouise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blink and you’ll miss it miscommunication, F/M, Fluffiness, Healer Hermione, Healer Marcus, Heartbreak, Scotland, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxLouise/pseuds/LuxLouise
Summary: After a significant loss in her career, Hermione moves to Scotland to take a slower career path and comes across someone she hasn’t thought about in years. Sparks fly but can they get over their past issues?
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Hermione Granger
Comments: 30
Kudos: 97





	The Healers

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I wrote instead of what I was supposed to be doing! Marcus/Hermione is one of my favorite rare-pairs and I hope I do them justice!
> 
> Thanks to my amazing alphabet team of TriDogMom and VesperSwan!

Wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, Hermione leaned against the soothing, cream coloured walls just outside the operating theatre. A sob escaped her lips and she pushed off the wall, walking as fast as her legs would carry her to the loo. The moment the door locked behind her, she cast a silencing spell at the door and broke down. Her throat was beginning to hurt from the gut-wrenching sobs that tore from her body. The tears were flowing freely and quickly and she knew her hair would be a disaster but she didn’t care.

One of the first things they were taught during healer training was to not get attached to patients. They wouldn’t be able to save everyone and it was their job to stay as professional as possible. Hermione though had never been able to shut her feelings off. That was one of the main reasons during the pediatric rotation she had immediately marked that down as a speciality she would not consider. She was a general healer, she could heal just about anything, consult in several different specialities and was often called on when the main healers were stuck on a case. She had seen thousands of patients in the five years she had been a healer, some of them stayed with you, others you forgot the moment you left the room. Today though, what was supposed to be a simple procedure with her favourite patient had ended with a mother to four little children dead. It was the last straw, the one that would break her.

Taking a deep breath, she stood from the floor of the loo where she had collapsed. Looking in the mirror, Hermione saw her mascara had run down her face, her hair looked as though she had been electrocuted, and there was snot drying on the sleeve of her lime green healer robe. Pulling her wand from her pocket, she waved it in front of her face, removing any trace of her crying. A complicated pattern above her head later and her hair was tamed back into submission.

_ “Scourgify” _ she murmured before unlocking the door and heading toward the waiting room where she knew the patients’ husband and children were going to be waiting for an update. This was honestly the worst part, telling the loved ones they would never be the same. She stood just on the other side of the door, peeking through the small window at the little family seated in the room. Marjorie’s husband was holding their youngest son, a one-year-old called Callum, while Emmie and Charlotte sat on the floor playing dolls. The oldest, ten-year-old Dillon was sitting next to his father, his eyes firmly locked on the door.

When she pushed the door open, Dillon was the first one to stand, racing over towards Hermione.

“How’s my mum? Is she alright?” he said quickly, a quiet wobble in his voice as though he were trying to hold back tears.

By that time, Gerard, Marjorie’s husband had made his way over, a hopeful look on his face that cracked the moment he took in the expression on her own.

“Mister Murray, I am so sorry. You’re wife developed complications during the procedure and we were unable to save her.”

She knew she couldn’t show emotion as she watched five peoples entire world fall around them. Hermione watched as Dillon took his sisters back to the seats and began consoling him, even with tears streaking down his young face. Gerard was still staring at her as though he hadn’t heard a word she had said.

“Again, I’m incredibly sorry for your loss. Marjorie was...she was a wonderful woman.” Hermione told him quietly. Gerard nodded his head before snuggling the baby closer to his chest. She watched as he quickly gathered his children up to around him.

A nurse came out at that point to help Mr Murray with what to do next. Leaving as quickly as she was able, Hermione went down the hall and through the door labelled stairs. The moment she hit the first floor, she walked quickly through the lobby and was out on the sidewalk in the Muggle world. It felt like she couldn’t breathe properly, though logically, she knew she was fine. Marjorie had been a patient of hers for the past five months. She had a strain of magical cancer that at first, seemed easily treatable. Unfortunately, cancer had spread quickly, eventually infiltrating her magical core. This procedure had been the last hope she had. They had attempted to remove cancer without damaging her core. The cancer had latched on to the middle of her core and the stress of the procedure had taxed the woman’s magic too much. There was nothing anyone could have done.

A few calming breathes later, Hermione knew what she needed to do. Walking back into the hospital, she took the lift up to the fourth floor to the Spell Damage Ward. Looking at the gold watch on her wrist, she noted the time and was certain her supervisor would be in his office. Leaving the lifts, Hermione walked down the hall to the last office on the left and knocked quickly, a quiet voice told her to enter. 

The office was decorated, a few certifications hung on the walls, the large desk was covered inpatient files. Healer Phillip Gumbles was seated at his desk, a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he looked over a file. He looked up as she took the seat across from him and smiled sadly at her.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Mrs Murray, Hermione. I know you had gotten close to the entire family,” he told her gently.

She nodded and cleared her throat. “Thank you, it’s a bad loss. I have something I needed to speak with you about.”

Gumbles gestured for her to continue as he laid down the file and gave her his entire attention.

“I’d like to tender my resignation. I’ll give you a month to find someone to take over for me and get settled in,” Hermione told him, her voice never wavering.

“Hermione, you can’t just quit because you lost one patient,” he started to say.

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. “It’s not just _ one _ patient. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not going to stop being a healer, I just need something less...hectic. Please understand.”

She watched as her boss looked her over with a critical eye.

“Alright, one month.”

Hermione knew she was dismissed when the man went back to his charting. She stood and as her hand gripped the doorknob, from behind her Gumbles voice called out.

“You’ll always have a place here, Granger.”

It felt as though a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders, her breathing came a bit easier, there was a bit of a spring in her step as she walked to the changing rooms.

* * *

It only took her two weeks to find a new position. There was a small clinic in Portree in the magical enclave nearby. The clinic needed a general practitioner to round out their staff of a paediatrician, an obstetrician, a chiropractor. The village was completely magical so there was no need to hide magic from the residents. It wasn’t quite the salary she would be making at St Mungo’s but the peace it would bring her was worth the loss of money. She had found a quaint little cottage in town, less than a mile from the clinic.

The week before she was set to leave found her, Harry, Ron, and Ginny in her tiny flat in Muggle London helping her pack her belongings.

“I don’t know why you don’t let Harry call Winky,” Ron bitched as he packed her books into an oversized box that had been spelt with an undetectable extension charm.

Huffing as she passed him more books. “ _ Because, _ Ronald, we are perfectly capable of packing a few boxes ourselves and I’ve already taken Harry away from his wife and baby for the evening, I’m not going to take the elf when Daphne may need her.”

Harry laughed from the kitchen. “Daphne doesn’t let Winky help with James at all and you know it.”

“We’re all able to pack boxes and besides, don’t you want to spend time with me before I move away?” she asked, a fake pout on her face.

Ginny laughed from her spot on the sofa where she was ‘supervising’ “You’re moving to Scotland, not America. We’ll see you all the time, Daphne's already said she’s going to start taking James there to be seen by the paediatrician just so she can see you every month.”

All of her friends except for Ginny were making her move out to be the end of the world. Ginny was rarely in the country, often travelling around the world for Quidditch. Harry had started the guilt trip the moment she sat them all down to let them know she was moving. Shoving three-month-old James in her arms and carrying on about how much she would miss out on. Ron, who had recently gotten engaged to Susan Bones, acted as though it was a personal affront to him that she was leaving. Ginny had been the only sensible one.

“I’ll come to visit all the time and you lot are more than welcome to come to Scotland anytime you want to see me,” she told them. Hermione would miss her friends, there was no question about it, but this felt right. Something deep inside told her this was the right thing to do.

They finished the night off by sharing a bottle of firewhisky and reminiscing about the good old days. She had sent Harry home to Daphne, apologizing through the Floo for the state she was returning the blonde's husband. Susan had shown up just after they finished packing, having been on patrol as an Auror. Ginny had decided to stay and the two friends were laying in Hermione's bed.

“I’ll miss you a lot, you know that right?”

Ginny gave her a dirty look. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, ‘Mi. I won’t cry.”

Laughing, Hermione flicked Ginny on the nose. “I’m not being sappy. We’ve been in one another lives constantly since we were eleven years old. You’re off being a Quidditch star, yes, but you come home often. You’re my best friend and I’m going to miss you.”

When Ginny didn’t respond, Hermione sat up on her arm and pulled the blanket away from Ginny’s face.

“I told you not to make me cry, you bint.”

* * *

Though she had interviewed with the outgoing GP, Hermione hadn’t met any of the others in the clinic. It was her first day and she was just a tad nervous. She had gotten settled into her new home easily, magic made the moving and unpacking process so much easier. The house was lovely and Ginny, Harry, Ron, Susan, Daphne, and baby James had been by the night before for a house-warming dinner. She took a deep breath and walked in the front doors of the unassuming little clinic nestled at the end of the high street, a chemist next door. 

A charm sounded above her as she walked in. A pretty brunette receptionist who looked as though she was fresh out of Hogwarts was sitting at the desk in front of her, smiling.

“You must be Healer Granger?” the woman asked.

Stepping forward, Hermione held out her hand and grinned. “Hermione, please.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hermione. I was a few years behind you at Hogwarts, a Hufflepuff. I’m Renea.”

Already feeling as though she was making a new friend, they shook hands. “Am I early? I’m not sure what I need to be doing,” Hermione confessed. 

With a laugh, Renea walked around the desk and motioned for Hermione to follow her through a set of doors to her left. “You’re a bit early, Marcus usually doesn’t get here until close to nine, Genevive only comes in when she has a patient, she's the chiro and Marcus is the peds doctor.”

Hermione followed behind, taking in the sights of the clinic. The entire building was clean, light grey walls. There were several closed doors close to the front that she assumed were patient rooms. Renea stopped outside a door with a nameplate attached that read  _ Hermione Granger, GP _ .

“This is you. Violet, our OB is in the office next to yours, Marcus is across the hall, Gen is next to his. We usually get lunch delivered from the pub up the street but since it’s your first day, we decided we’d treat you to lunch out today.”

She waved a hand, “There's no need for that, I don’t need any sort of special lunch.”

Renea laughed. “Humble, I like that. It’s not optional. We’re all very close here you’ll find. We also have two nurses, Jeremy and Don. They’re great, you’ll love them both.”

The same tinkling bell Hermione heard when she first walked in sounded throughout the back of the office.

“Oh, excuse me.” Renea waved as she left Hermione to settle into her new office. She hadn’t had an office at St Mungo’s – she was just a regular healer, not the head of any department or a senior healer. She had shared a changing room with the other healers. Having her own space to do paperwork and research on cases was unbelievable. Settling down in her desk chair, Hermione just sat for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and preparing herself for her first day. Grabbing her briefcase from where she had sat it on her desk, she pulled out some parchments and a few self-inking quills. 

She knew she wouldn’t have any patients unless they had walk-ins but glancing at the watch on her wrist, she saw it was just a quarter til nine. Heading out of her office, she wanted to meet the other healers at the practice and make a good impression. As soon as her door shut behind her, she heard a deep voice coming from the front of the clinic, it sounded as though two people were arguing. She recognized the woman’s voice as Renea and assumed the male voice likely belonged to the paediatrician. Walking towards the front, she pushed open the door that led to the waiting room and found Renea in a quiet, but heated argument with a massively tall, broad-shouldered man.

“Marcus, you’re being completely unreasonable, you don’t even know the woman. You can’t say you don’t like her before you even meet her.” Renea hissed, shuffling parchments on her desk.

“Jonathan hired this woman without consulting any of us! We don’t know what she’s like, how she practices, you know we all work together.” The man told Renea, his voice rising.

Renea flashed a hard look up at the man, never stopping her work. “She was top of her class at Hogwarts and in Healer training at St Mungo’s. She has published several papers that have been extremely well received throughout the entire world. She has a flawless patient record and comes highly recommended by not only her supervisor and co-workers but also past patients of hers.”

The man scoffed and cross his large arms over his chest. “She sounds like she’ll be stuck up. She won’t last here. This is a small clinic, Renea. Someone with that much prestige won’t be happy here patching up people who’ve gotten a rash.”

Deciding enough was enough, Hermione cleared her throat and stepped fully out of the doorway and fought her urge to raise an eyebrow and cross her arms. Renea’s face bloomed a bright red as she shot the man in front of her a dirty look.

“Healer Granger, this is Marcus Flint, our peds healer.”

It was only with years of practice that Hermione’s mouth didn’t drop open as Marcus Flint turned to face her. His face, however, showed the shock of recognizing her. He no longer resembled the troll-ish boy he had during their Hogwarts days. He had his teeth fixed and Hermione could honestly say he was incredibly attractive. Marcus towered over her by at least a foot, his broad chest looked incredibly fit through his tight black shirt, his healer robe thrown over his muscular arm.

Taking another step closer, Hermione held her hand out to Flint. “Nice to see you again, Healer Flint.” Her voice sounding more confident than she felt.

His eyes darted to her outstretched hand, a curious expression flitting across his face before he gripped her hand firmly and shook.

“I can assure you, Flint, I’m perfectly happy patching people up. I can assure you that I’m more than willing to work with you and help in any way that I’m needed.” She smirked internally as a look of shame crossed his face briefly.

“I didn’t become a healer for the accolades and published works, Flint. I became a healer to help those in need.” She let go of his hand that she hadn’t realise she had still gripped in his and turned on her heel and headed back to her office.

Just before the door to the waiting room closed behind her, Hermione heard Renea scolding Flint.

“Well done, you. She’s not even been here an hour and you’ve gone and mucked everything up.”

* * *

Her first day had been rather uneventful. She had met the OB, Violet, who was a lovely older woman in her late sixties, Jeremy and Don, the Medi-Wizards were very helpful and funny enough to give the Weasley twins a run for their money. 

Hermione tended to three walk-in patients, and an older gentleman who had spilt a home-made cleaning potion on his legs that caused giant boils to break out over them, A teenage girl who had broken her arm in a flying accident, and then, just before lunch, a young girl who had stolen a vial of polyjuice potion from her potioneer father and, in a fit of hilarity, had turned herself into a cat, much like Hermione had when she was thirteen.

Lunch had been a reasonably awkward affair. Flint had joined herself, Renea, Violet, Jeremy, and Don but had barely said two words to anyone the entire time. After he finished eating his food at a rate of speed that would put Ron to shame, he had left early, insisting he had a patient. Violet had sighed when Flint had left and apologized to Hermione.

“You’ll get used to him, dear. He acts tough but he’s a big softie.”

Don let out a barking laugh. “Maybe towards you because you remind him of his mum,” He turned to look at Hermione from his spot on the other side of Renea, “Marcus doesn’t like change. He was a giant knob to me the first three months I worked here, just ignore him.”

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. At six that evening, Renea stopped by her office to drop off the appointments that had been made for Hermione for the rest of the week. Waving goodnight to who Hermione hoped would become a good friend, she settled at her desk to finish up her notes from the patients she had seen that day. She never liked to leave the notes and having no family or anyone to get home too, she worked well into the night. 

A door closing loudly caught her attention just as she finished up the last note. She thought everyone had already left for the night. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was half-past eight. A tight grip on her wand, she pulled her door open quickly and pointed her wand into the dark hallway, a large man stood just across the hall from her, hands held up in the air.

“It’s just me, Granger,” Flint growled quietly.

Trying to get her heart rate under control and the embarrassment that threatened to swallow her whole, Hermione slid her wand in her pocket.

“I’m so sorry, Flint. I didn’t realise anyone else was still here.”

He grunted at her and walked towards the front of the office, leaving out the front door without another word.

“Way to make a first impression, Hermione,” she said to herself.

* * *

The next three months passed by in a blur. The patients seemed to like her and she had built friendships with everyone in the office, except for Flint. The man barely spoke to her unless it was necessary. They agreed on nothing at all and often came to blows over everything from patient care to whose turn it was to make tea in the break room. Renea had had to intervene several times when they would begin screaming at one another so loudly, the patients in the waiting room could hear them.

“You two just need to shag, the unresolved sexual tension is killing me,” Renea told her one evening when they had gone out to drinks after work.

The witch had become a very close friend of Hermione’s in the three months she had been in Scotland. She was an academic much like Hermione and had just applied to healer training. When Ginny had come to visit, the three had gotten on like a cauldron on fire.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “There is no sexual tension of any kind. Yes, I will admit he is a very good looking bloke but his personality is still the same as it was at Hogwarts,” she took a sip of her drink.

“He was a dick back then and is a dick now.”

Renea laughed. “There’s something there, I’m telling you. I’ve seen him checking out your arse when you stomp away after one of your screaming matches.”

  
  


* * *

It was incredibly late on a Thursday evening, Hermione and Flint were the only ones left in the office, both shut away in their offices. A loud banging at the front of the clinic pulled Hermione away from the notes she was working on. Grabbing her wand from where it lay on her desk, she threw her door open just as Flint opened his office door.

“Did you hear that?” She asked.

He had already begun walking towards the waiting room. “Of course I did, why else would I be out here?”

“Arsehole,” Hermione muttered under her breath as she followed behind him, her wand held tightly in her hand.

Flint went into the waiting room, holding a hand out for Hermione to stay where she was. It was only a few moments before Flint yelled her name. Running into the waiting room, she found Flint gently taking a small boy out of an older man’s arms.

Immediately switching to healer mode, Hermione ran forward. “What happened?”

The man had tears running down his face. “He’s my grandson, he was outside playing and I went inside too, I was only gone for a few moments and when I came back out he was gone.”

Hermione followed behind Marcus who was carrying the unconscious boy back into the patient rooms. He gently laid him on the bed.

“Where did you find him?” Hermione asked.

“In a pond about one hundred yards away. I have no idea how he got there but Grindylows had pulled him under.”

Flint was already running his wand over the boy, casting diagnostics over the boy. “You’ll have to wait outside sir. We’ll update you as soon as we’re able too.”

Hermione glanced over at the man as he backed out of the room. 

“He has lethifold magic all over him. It must have lured him to the pond and the Grindylow attacked the moment he got in.” Flint said, never taking his eyes off the small boy on the table.

She began casting as well, following Flint’s lead, siphoning the water out of the boy’s lungs while Flint dealt with the large welts that were all over the boy’s legs and arms, even a few on his torso. When she was sure his lungs were free of fluid, she glanced at Flint.

“I’m going to attempt to revive him if you’re ready,” she told him. At his nod, she began chanting, her wand waving in a figure-eight pattern over the boy’s chest. She hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until she saw the boy’s chest start to rise and fall slowly.

“He’s back,” Flint breathed out. “We need to put him in a magically induced coma to siphon all the lethifold magic off him, it’ll make it easier finishing up the Grindylow injuries as well. Give his body some time to rest.”

Nodding in agreement, Hermione took a step back. “I’ll go update his grandfather.” 

Stepping out of the room, the moment the door shut behind her, the older man who had been sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his head in his hands jumped to his feet with a speed of a much younger man.

“How is he?”

“He’ll be alright. We found lethifold magic on him, so you’ll need to contact the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical creatures to take care of that for you as well as the Grindylow in your pond.”

The man looked as though he aged fifty years as Hermione spoke, the blood drained from his face. She reached out and put her hand on his arm.

“We have him in a magically induced coma so we can remove the traces of the lethifold and finish healing the Grindylow injuries. His body will get the rest he needs. Healer Flint is an excellent pediatric healer and your grandson is in very capable hands.”

“His name is Colton and he’s all I have left,” Tears began streaming down the man’s face. “I lost my wife just last year and my son, Coltons father and his wife were killed during the war. I can’t lose my grandson.”

Hermione’s stomach clenched as she thought back briefly to Marjorie Murray and the look on her husband and children’s faces as she told them they had lost their wife and mother.

“We’re not going to let that happen. He’ll need to be transferred to St Mungo’s for a few nights of observation but he should make a full recovery, Mister…” She trailed off, realising she had never gotten the mans name.

“Buchannon, Ewan Buchannon. Thank you, truly, I don’t know what I would do if you hadn’t been here.”

After reassuring the man again that his grandson would be alright, Hermione slipped back into the room to find Flint sitting in a chair next to the bed, the boy’s prone form in front of him. Flint had his head in his hands, his back rising and falling in quick succession.

“Whats happened?” Hermione asked quietly, fear gripping her.

Flint jumped and stood quickly, backing away from Colton. “Nothing, he’s just fine. I’ve sent a Patronus to St Mungo’s, someone should be here in the next fifteen minutes to transport him.”

“His names Colton,” she told him quietly. “Colton Buchannon.”

He nodded and turned his back towards here. They stood in silence before an eagle Patronus soared into the room.

“Healers from St Mungos to transport.” A voice echoed around the room.

Hermione watched as Flint straightened up and cleared his throat. “I’ll bring them in.”

Thirty minutes later and Colton and Ewan were on their way to London for a few days stay at St Mungos, who had promised Hermione and Flint an update. After everyone had left, Hermione and Flint were once again left alone in the clinic.

“You did amazing work back there,” Hermione told him quietly as they both stood outside their own offices.

“So did you.”

A silence descended upon them again, neither knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry.”

It was so quiet, she almost thought she had imagined it. She looked up and found Flint looking at her.

“What for?” She asked, unsure what to say.

He chucked and leaned against his closed office door, arms crossed. “I’ve been a right prat to you since the moment you started. I have no excuse for my behaviour, I don’t like change and I didn’t think you would be a good fit because of your background.” 

Hermione stood silently, looking down at her feet.

“When I realised it was you, I was...embarrassed.” He said, his voice tight.

Her head snapped up to look at him. “Embarrassed for what?”

Flint glanced over at her. “I know what you must think of me from Hogwarts. I was an entitled Pure-blood elitist snob. I’m not the same arsehole I was back then. You might not believe me but I have changed.”

“I didn’t know you well enough, or even at all, to judge your character back then,” she said softly. “Maybe we could start over, a clean slate and all? We’re both adults now and different people.”

Flint walked over to her, holding his hand out towards her. “Call me Marcus.”

She smiled and grasped his hand. “Hermione.”

* * *

After that night, Marcus and Hermione formed a quick friendship. They ate lunch together most days, he even joined her and Renea some nights when they went out for drinks after work. He wasn’t at all what she had expected. He had a wicked sense of humour, incredibly smart in a way that challenged her and she loved it. He was great with the children that came into the clinic, almost as though he turned into another person when there was a child around. He was willing to help out around the clinic with anyone who needed it.

She found out that he had started his healing career wanting to go into surgery but found it wasn’t a great fit for him, too impersonal he said. He liked getting to know his patients and forming a relationship with them. The friendship started awkwardly at first, neither sure what they had in common but once they realised they were more alike than they thought, they became inseparable.

At the year mark of her starting at the clinic, the entire staff went out to dinner together at the pub. It was a stark contrast to that first lunch they had all gone on. She was sat next to Marcus at the large table, laughing at his impression of Jeremy hitting on one of the barmaids. She caught Reneas eye who was looking at the two of them, a smirk on her face. Hermione’s face heated up and she threw back the drink in front of her.

It was true in the months that she had become friends with Marcus, the more she got to know him, the more feelings started to develop. He was incredibly handsome with his dark brown wavy hair, blue eyes, not to mention his muscular stature. His crooked grin made her weak at the knees, especially when it was directed at her. They had spent many nights at her flat, working on notes for work, watching telly, telling stories from their training days, just getting to know one another. However, Marcus had never shown any hint that he returned her feelings so she kept them to herself, only confiding in Ginny through letters that she had begun falling for the man.

* * *

Two weeks before Christmas, things began to change. Marcus started to pull away from her, cancelling lunch plans, ignoring her owls when she sent them to ask him over for dinner, barely speaking to anyone at the clinic, let alone her. She had asked Renea if she knew what was going on when once again Marcus refused to speak to her. The receptionist had changed the subject and avoided Hermione’s eye.

Before she could think about what to do, an owl arrived at the clinic for her from Harry.

_ Hermione, _

_ I’m sorry to be writing this but we need you to come home. Molly has come down with some sort of illness and St Mungos isn’t sure she is going to make it through Christmas. They’re at a loss as to what the disease is or how to cure it. _

_ We need you to come home. _

_ All my love, _

_ Harry _

There was a pounding in her ears as she read through Harry’s letter again and again. Without conscious thought, Hermione began packing up her things before she headed to Reneas desk.

“There’s an emergency back home. I need you to cancel all of my appointments or rearrange them. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, I’ll send you an owl as soon as I know more.” Hermione told her friend hurridly.

Reneas eyes widened as she took in Hermione’s appearance. “No problem, send me a message when you’re ready to talk. Let us know if you need anything.”

  
  


Hermione waved as she ran out the door of the clinic, apparating on the spot to her flat where she began throwing clothes in her suitcase at random, not caring what it was or if she would even need it. Shrinking the suitcase down, she shoved it in her pocket and ran into her sitting room. Grabbing the Portkey that sat on her mantle above her fireplace, she tapped her wand to it with one hand while gripping it with the other. A hook behind her navel pulled tight and she was gone. Landing in the middle of Grimmauld Place, she found Daphne pacing around, James toddling behind her, babbling away. Before even greeting Daphne, Hermione scooped the boy up in her arms, hugging him tightly as he giggled at her. She glanced over James’ shoulder at Daphne who had tears in her eyes.

“It’s not good.” The blonde witch told her quietly.

“What happened?” Hermione asked as she sat James down on the floor, taking a seat on the sofa and watched as he began bringing her all of his favourite toys to show off.

Daphne sighed and joined Hermione on the sofa. “She’s been sick for a month or so. Tired, no energy, fevers, throwing up. Arthur came home from the Ministry yesterday and found her in the kitchen, collapsed in front of the stove.” Daphne leaned her head against Hermione’s shoulder.

“The healers have no idea what’s wrong, what it could be. We’re all hoping you might know something.”

She nodded and laid her head on top of Daphnes, not caring that she was crying into the witches hair as they both watched James continue to bring them both toys.

“I should head to St Mungo’s,” Hermione said, picking up James for one last cuddle as she stood.

“Everyone is up there. I’ll drop off James with my mother and meet you there.”

A quick Floo trip later and Hermione was making her way up to the third floor. As the healers didn’t know what had brought the illness on, they were keeping her there instead of spell damage. As the lift opened, A sea of Weasleys descended on her the moment she stepped out. She was passed from crying person to crying person, each one pulling her into a tight hug until the next person claimed her. At last, she was transferred to the open arms of Arthur Weasley. The man was missing his permanent smile, the grim, pale look on his face broke Hermione’s heart.

“Who is her healer?” She asked him as he hugged her tightly.

“Healer Falley. They said you could go back as soon as you got here.” Arthur told her. 

Hermione patted his hand before she stalked through the double doors meant for Healers only. As soon as she arrived at the Medi-witch station, she caught sight of her former boss, Phillip Gumbles who was holding a set of lime green healer robes out to her. As she pulled them on, he pulled out a stack of parchments.

“I have her entire chart here, every not from everyone who has so much as stepped into the room. She’s in room thirteen hundred and four.” Gumbles told her.

Grabbing the parchments, Hermione turned and began walking away before Phillip called out to her. “Granger.”

She turned to find the mans face ashen. “It’s not looking good, Hermione. You need to prepare yourself for that.”

Nodding, she stalked off down the hall, taking a calming breath before she pushed open the door to only mother she had left. Molly Weasley was not going to die if she had anything to say about it.

Mollys prone form lay on the bed in front of her, her breathing barely noticeable as Hermione crossed the room. The light was dim, the only light coming from a continuous monitoring charm that hovered next to the bed that read Molly’s vitals. As she approached the bed, Hermione covered her mouth in shock as she took a good look at the women.

Gone was the plump, rosy-cheeked woman. In her place was a sallow-faced, thinning person. Her skin looked grey and when Hermione placed her hand gently on top of Mollys, she could feel each and every vein in her hand.

Straitening her spine, Hermione began running her diagnostics, taking notes with her dicta-quill she had pulled from her bag, and reading the various notes the other healers had left. They were right, it didn’t look great. However, Hermione had a plan. Patting Molly’s arm, she walked back out, dropping the file off at the Medi-Witch station, the entire Weasley family was still taking up the waiting room when she walked out.

“Arthur,” She said, walking up to the Weasley Patriarch and pulling him in for a tight hug. “I’d like to come to the burrow and see what Molly has been working on at home, potions, ingredients, anything new that might have cropped up in the garden the last few weeks.”

At his nod, everyone began filing in through the nearby Floo to head to the Burrow except for Arthur who refused to leave the hospital. When they all had arrived, Hermione doled out jobs to everyone. Daphne, Susan, Ginny, and Ron were to take stock of the entire kitchen, George, Harry, and Charlie were investigating outside the house in the gardens and anywhere Molly might have been recently. Herself, Bill, Fleur, and Percy began looking through Molly’s personal potion’s lab. Molly was a gifted brewer and Hermione knew she was often called upon by friends and family members to brew potions for them.

They hadn’t been at it very long when suddenly a cry from outside caught everyone’s attention. They all ran outside to find Charlie and George rolling around in the dirt, Charlie seemed to be attempting to strangle George and screaming that he had killed their mother. Hermione glanced over at Harry who was standing there open-mouthed, a plant in his grip. She watched as Ron and Bill jumped into the fray with Percy yelling at them all and tossing stinging hexes at random. Deciding enough was enough, Hermione raised her wand in the hair and shot off a boom like a canon. All the boys broke apart, each gasping for breath, George sporting a brilliantly black eye, busted lip and ripped t-shirt, Ron looked as though a chunk of his hair had been yanked out and judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t certain why.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on?” Ginny screamed. “Our mum is dying and you lot decide to have a go at one another? This is ridiculous.”

Charlie was bent over at the knees, his breath coming out in short gasps, he held up his hand. “George is trying to kill mum.” He finally managed to get out

“I am not!” George insisted, aiming a kick at Charlie but missing. “I brought that plant home when I went on that tour of Africa a few weeks ago. I just thought it would look nice in mums garden.”

Harry held out the plant towards Hermione. Nightshade, suddenly all of Molly’s symptoms began to make sense. It wasn’t something that would be checked for in the initial scanning and as most people outside of close family and friends didn’t know Molly made potions, they wouldn’t do a more in-depth scan of someone they thought just to be a housewife. Rolling her eyes at the still bickering children of Molly and Arthur Weasley, Hermione turned on her heel and stomped back to the house, straight to the Floo.

Once she arrived back on St Mungos, she told Arthur what had been found before heading straight back to the Medi-Witch station. After informing the healers on duty what she had found, Hermione went back out to the waiting room to sit with the rest of the Weasley’s who had cleaned themselves up before coming back to the hospital. George was apologizing profusely to Arthur when Hermione walked back through the double doors. Harry waved her over and she sat down between Harry and Ron.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, ‘Mi,” Ron told her quietly, his face still sallow looking.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I’ll send an owl off to the clinic tonight and let them know I’ll be taking a leave of absence until after Christmas.” At the questioning looks of those around her besides Harry and Ron, she continued.

“Molly will likely need some help healing when they wake her and will more than likely suffer some setbacks in the first couple of weeks. Nightshade poisoning is nothing to take lightly.”

Arthur walked over to where Hermione was sitting and pulled her up into a bone-crushing hug that would have made Molly proud. “I can’t thank you enough, my dear. You don’t need to take time off work to stay though, there’s plenty of us around.”

Smiling gently up at the older man who was the only father she had left. “I’m happy too. I’m the only one who is a healer and I’ll know just what to look for in terms of setbacks.”

* * *

The next two weeks were a blur. Molly was released from the hospital two days after Hermione arrived and was only released because a fully certified healer would be staying at the house and monitoring her recovery. Hermione had sent an owl to Renea the same night she had arrived back in London, informing her of what had happened and letting her know that she would be taking two weeks off to help Molly recover. Renea had responded, telling her to take her time and everyone at the clinic was thinking of her.

Hermione had briefly wondered if that had included Marcus. They had had little to no interaction in almost a month. In the quiet moments at the Burrow when Molly was napping and no one else was underfoot, Hermione would stare at the roaring fire or out the snowy window, wondering what Marcus was doing, if he was alright, what had suddenly changed between them. A part of her did wonder if he had somehow found out about her feelings for him and instead of just turning her down, he decided to ignore her and damage their friendship. The only person who knew Marcus that knew she was in love with him was Renea and Hermione didn’t think her friend would tell him.

Two days before she was set to return to Scotland, Hermione was sitting on Molly and Arthurs bed, reading a book next to Molly who was knitting a blanket of some kind.

“You’ve never really told me how you like it in Scotland, dear,” Molly said, her voice deceptively light.

Placing her finger in between the pages of her book, she shut it. “I do love it there. The clinic is everything I hoped for when I left the hospital. It’s a much slower pace, the people I work with are fantastic. I love the little home I’ve created for myself up there.”

Molly hummed as she continued knitting. “And have you found anyone there you like?”

Swallowing back a laugh, she replaced her finger with a bookmark and set the book aside before turning to face Molly who was still concentrating on the dark green yarn.

“I thought I had. Someone we were at Hogwarts with but a bit older. And a Slytherin, which I know isn’t a problem anymore but he wasn’t the...nicest of blokes.”

The needles clacking and Molly making the occasional humming noise lulled Hermione into a sensation of comfort she had rarely felt outside of her mother. Sliding down until she was fully laying on her side, her arm underneath her head for a pillow, she kept her eyes trained on the knitting as she continued speaking.

“Marcus Flint. He’s a paediatrician now and I’ve never met someone so great with kids in all my life.” she sighed. “We didn’t get along at all at first, butted heads over practically everything. We saved a little boy a while back and ever since then we’ve been close.”

Still not speaking, Molly just hummed as her needles clack clacked away.

“A couple of weeks ago, he’s started pulling away. Cancelling plans, ignoring me, I don’t know what it is I’ve done. He’s brilliant and I think you would really like him but whatever it was is over now. Over before it began really.”

Molly laid down her knitting and patted her lap until Hermione laid her head in the older woman’s lap. Molly began softly stroking her hair, much like Hermione’s mother had done for her when she had been a child.

“If he is the one you’re meant to be with when you get back there, you go straight to him and tell him how you feel. If, for whatever reason, he’s an idiot or blind, and doesn’t return those feelings then at least you’ll know dear.” Molly told her quietly.

“You won’t spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened. I want the same for you that I want for the rest of my children. I want you to find someone, anyone, who makes you truly happy and love them with everything you have.”

Hermione didn’t realise she had tears running down the side of her face until she sat up and pulled Molly gently in for a hug.

“And then I want grandbabies, lots of grandbabies.”

* * *

After Christmas ended and Hermione was satisfied with Molly’s health, she left the Burrow and returned to Scotland. Unsure of how she would be received by Marcus at the clinic, Hermione sent him an owl, asking if he would be willing to come by her house the evening before she was to start back to work around seven. She didn’t receive a reply but decided to prepare for him just in case. Making sure the house was clean and there were drinks and food, she began pacing around her sitting room at six-thirty and when the hands-on her clock hit seven, her pacing became more frenzied, time seemed to be slowing down. Seven turned to seven-thirty and then eight. At a quarter past eight, her Floo lit up and bright green flames danced in the hearth. Marcus’ massive form stepped out of her fireplace and dusted himself off before looking around at her.

When his eyes caught hers, he immediately looked down.

“How is Mrs Weasley doing? Renea said she had been poisoned?” he asked her quietly, looking anywhere but at her.

Hermione sat down in an overstuffed armchair, “She’s healing nicely. George was travelling and brought home what he thought was a harmless plant for her to put in her garden. It was Nightshade.” she watched as Marcus’ head snapped up and looked at her.

“Nightshade? How on earth did she survive so long?” 

“A lot of luck I think. I was just happy that I was able to get there in time to help.”

A silence descended upon them, neither knowing what to say. Hermione squirmed in her chair and Marcus shuffled his feet, his hands stuffed in the pocket of the denims he had on.

He cleared his throat suddenly. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think what I have done to have caused you to push me away but the only thing I can think of is,” 

She trailed off and looked down at her hands. “I assumed you either figured out or overheard that I have feelings for you.”

Marcus sucked in a breath and sank on the sofa. “Hermione I had no idea you felt that way about me. There are things you need to know, why I acted the way I did.”

Not wanting to interrupt him, she looked over and found him staring at his hands, his face pale.

“I was married. I’m not sure if you knew that but I was. I married a Muggle woman named Caroline four years ago. She was beautiful and so full of life. We had decided to start a family and we were so happy.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears, she knew this wouldn’t have a happy ending.

“Caroline loved magic but didn’t care if I used it or not around the house. She hoped our kids would be magical so they could go to Hogwarts and be better than I was. She knew what a little dick I was back then. She also knew that I was a better man now.”

“Marcus you don’t have to explain this to me.”

He gave her a small smile, his eyes not meeting hers, “No, I want too.”

Deciding she had nothing left to lose, Hermione stood and walked to the sofa and sat next to him, her hand on his shoulder as he took another shuddering breath.

“Two years ago on Christmas Eve, Caroline had been in Leeds visiting her mum and dad. I had patients and was supposed to meet her there after I finished up. She was just down the street from her parent’s house when someone ran a stop sign and hit her. She died instantly.”

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t imagine losing someone like that, the person you loved so violently. With magic, they were able to do so much but there was also so much that was out of their control.

“Every year around Christmas, I take off until after the New Year to mourn her. This year though, you came into my life.”

Marcus turned to look at her, the crooked grin that she loved.

“You made me feel things, things I haven’t felt since I met Caroline. It scared me, I didn’t think I was ready for anything, for love, again. You blew into the clinic and you made me so mad but I think that was because I was trying to push aside the attraction.”

Her heart was beating so fast, she was certain that he could hear it. Hermione pulled her hand away from Marcus, twisting her fingers in her lap until he grabbed both of her hands in one of his larger ones and tilted her face up to look him in the eye.

“The night that Colton was brought in, I saw a different side of you and I couldn’t push it down anymore. I wanted to know you and the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. It felt, at first, like an insult to Caroline’s memory. That’s why I pushed you away.”

She loved the way his blue eyes sparkled when he smiled, actually smiled. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and continued.

“But I know now, Caroline wouldn’t want me to be miserable the rest of my life and she would have loved you, you know. I think she would have approved.”

The last part was said in a near whisper as Marcus leaned down, his lips ghosting over her own before he pressed his firmly against hers. Her sitting-room seemed to fade away as she melted into the kiss and Marcus pulled her against him. His firm arms made her feel safer than she had in a long time. When his tongue ran across the opening of her lips, she opened her mouth willingly and wasn’t able to hold back the moan that escaped.

After a few minutes of heavy snogging, they both pulled back slightly to catch their breath and grinned at one another.

“I want to get to know you more, I want to take you on dates,” he told her, his forehead leaned against hers.

“We can take it slow, no need to rush into anything. We have all the time in the world.” Hermione replied with a smile.

* * *

_ Three Years Later _

“Hermione dear, would you mind taking the plates outside?” Molly called out from the kitchen.

She grabbed the plates after adjusting the sleeping toddler that was draped over her shoulder. Thankful for her ever-expanding bump, her daughter rested comfortably on top of her little brother or sister. Everyone was gathered at the Burrow to celebrate the summer solstice and though she was only a few weeks away from her due date, Hermione had insisted they come. Marcus had been hovering incessantly the past two weeks, worried just as he had been when she had fallen pregnant with Vivianne two and a half years prior.

Though they both had insisted they would take their relationship slow, it was almost six months to the day after that faithful night in her cottage that she had realised she was pregnant. They had married in a quiet ceremony in the backyard of the cottage, friends and family the only people in attendance two months after their daughter was born. They were madly in love with each other and their daughter and been thrilled to discover Hermione was pregnant once again. They had decided to wait this time and be surprised upon delivery if they were blessed with a son or daughter.

She smiled as Marcus abandoned the conversation he was in with Ron and Percy, taking their sleeping daughter from her before returning to her two friends. Sitting the plates on the table, she smiled around at the sight before her. Victoire was making a flower crown for little Lily, Arthur and Harry were building a bonfire in preparation for the evening while Molly, Fleur, Daphne, and Ginny were gathering flowers and herbs from the now Nightshade-free garden. Hermione couldn’t ask for a more perfect day.

Just as she turned back towards the table to sit down, Hermione felt a sudden wetness between her legs that was all too familiar. Gripping the back of the seat just as Molly walked towards her, Hermione waved Marcus over.

“My waters have just broken.”

Immediately, Marcus began to panic, handing Vivianne off to a surprised Percy, he accio’d her bag. “Lets head to the Floo, don’t rush but let’s hurry. Are you having a contraction? Do you need some water?”

Holding her hand up before her husband could spiral completely, she silenced him. “I don’t want to go to St Mungo’s just yet. I’m not having contractions and I’m not in any pain, just let me sit down and relax for a bit.”

Laughing as Marcus continued to pace around her as she drank a glass of lemonade that Harry had brought her, she rubbed her swollen belly. She just  _ knew _ this was where she needed to be, not the hospital. She continued to wave away anyone that tried to tell her she needed to go to the hospital and insisted the solstice celebration continue. Victoire brought her a beautiful flower crown made of daisy that matched Vivi’s. About an hour before the sun was due to set, Hermione’s contractions became closer and closer together.

“Molly, I don’t think I will make it the hospital.” she grit out between contractions.

Marcus rushed forward, helping her to stand as Molly quickly made her way into the house ahead of them.

“I had the twins, Ron, and Ginny all at home, I know just what to do. Marcus, help her upstairs to mine and Arthurs room while I get everything we’ll need.” Taking no arguments, Molly turned on her heel at the bottom, of the stairs, she marched off, calling out tasks for everyone.

“Are you sure we can’t go to the hospital, love?” Marcus said as he helped her sit on the bed.

Leaning back against the pillows, her head tossed back, Hermione breathed through a particularly rough contraction before answering. “I’m sure. Babies are born at home all the time, you’re a healer, you know that. Molly knows what she’s doing, you’re a healer for Merlin’s sake.”

“Yes, for children once they are  _ out _ of their mothers,” he told her with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, Marcus Flint. You can go wait downstairs with everyone else if you’re going to get smart with me.” 

Marcus scoffed. “That’s not going to happen.”

* * *

Just as Arthur and Bill lit the bonfire, a tired but ecstatic Marcus walked outside, a huge grin on his face.

“It’s a boy,” he exclaimed excitedly. “He’s perfect and as always, Hermione was a warrior and doing great. Arthur, would you come inside? Hermione wants to see you.”

Hermione smiled as her husband and surrogate father walked in the room, a small bundle in her arms. Pulling the blanket back slightly, she proudly showed off the rosy-cheeked boy with a patch of dark brown hair on his head. She offered the baby out to Arthur who took him, a smile on his face.

“He’s beautiful, well done, both you of you,” he told them, never taking his eyes off the baby. “Does he have a name?”

Molly sniffled from her place next to Hermione. “Oh, Arthur.”

He looked up and Hermione grinned at him. “Callum Arthur Flint. We wanted to name him after Marcus’ grandfather and the only father I have left if that’s alright with you.” She told him.

Arthur sat down on the bed, handing Callum back to Hermione. “I would be honoured.” his voice a bit shaky.

Marcus had slipped out of the room and was back, bringing a still sleepy Vivianne with him. “Ready to meet your little brother?” he asked her quietly.

With her daughter crawling up on one side, her son in her arms and her husband next to her, Hermione truly felt as though she would never be happier than she was right at that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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